Subway Inn has reopened. The classic sign still adorns the front and looks restored to its glory. Inside looks nice, but a bit smaller. As they just opened Friday, the place still has that new car smell, no spoiled, stale beer smell yet. Hey! Atomic Wings is in the back, no more phoning in your order and waiting for that dude to run back your order.

The place looks the same, but cleaner, albeit a bit sterile, kinda like the new Yankee Stadium. The only thing that hasn't changed is the regulars, that group of blue collar sweat, smeared lipstick, and tight skirts with too small blouses straining under large pushed up boobage as to populate a David Goodis novel.

Welcome back Subway Inn, at least you have survived the guillotine for now, and New York still has one of its dives to call home.

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